


A Boy and His Fearow

by threerainydays



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon GO
Genre: Based on the famous tumblr post, Gen, Hilarity Ensues, Mistaken Identity, Spark's Origin Story, This poor trainer, Thunderstorms rolling in like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threerainydays/pseuds/threerainydays
Summary: Nothing could prepare you for the shock of seeing a large yellow bird more than twice the kid’s size swoop in from above and land beside him with barely a sound.
“That’s not a Fearow.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the famous tumblr post about Spark catching Zapdos as a kid. I know others have written for this idea and done it justice. But this idea inspired me and really got me excited about writing, which is something I've really missed. Normally it takes me months to write things, but I literally wrote this in a day because the story practically wrote itself. So without further ado, I present another retelling of Spark's origin story.

It’s been years since you started on the path to becoming a Trainer, but even you remember the feeling of excitement being out on your own for the first time. Free to go wherever you pleased, just you and your Pokemon heading out into the great wide world beyond the wild grass.

You can’t help but get lost in old memories as you see a kid skipping through the forest, swinging his arms and singing off-key. His spiky yellow hair stands out against the greenery even from this distance, his backpack bouncing with every step he takes. Eventually the song transitions into the kid calling out for his Pokemon, hands cupped around his mouth like a megahorn.

“Fearow! Fearrrroooooow! Hey, where are you buddy?”

Aw, man, did he lose his Pokemon? The kid looks young, can’t be more than seven years old. There’s no way he’s gotten his Trainer’s license yet, let alone challenged any gyms for badges. Feeling sorry for him, you approach with a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, kid! You looking for your Pokemon?”

He has a wide gap-toothed smile on his face when he turns in your direction. He looks a little embarrassed, almost sheepish as he nods. “Yeah. It’s getting late and I gotta go home for dinner. Fearow flew off somewhere and I can’t leave without it.”

You blink, wondering if you heard right. “A… Fearow?”

He just keeps smiling in that bright, happy way that only kids seem capable of and nods again. “Yup! Fearow’s my best friend. But,” he puts a finger to his lips like he’s sharing a secret. “Don’t tell my Pidgey I said that.”

“Your parents get you that Fearow?” Because honestly what kind of parents gave their kid a Fearow as a starter? Fearow were notoriously moody and difficult to train, not unlike their pre-evolved form, Spearow. Better to start with a Bulbasaur, or something equally as mellow. You recall starting with a Vulpix yourself, and it had remained your closest companion even after all these years. It was difficult to imagine this small kid cuddling up to a Fearow the way you used to with your Vulpix.

He shakes his head. “Nope, I caught it all by myself!”

The kid looks so proud, you can’t quite bring yourself to crush his hopes. “That’s quite impressive,” you say instead. “Can I help you find it?”

He practically lights up, as if that’s the greatest suggestion in the world. “Sure! Although Fearow’s pretty hard to miss. It likes to show off with a big thunderstorm every time, it’s kind of funny that way.”

Wait, a thunderstorm? Fearow weren’t electric types. What kind of Pokemon –

Just as you start to consider the possibility that maybe this isn’t a Fearow at all, a boom of thunder echoes through the forest. Several Pokemon in the treetops scatter, their cries disappearing into the distance.

The kid sighs in relief. “There it is!”

Before you can ask (and to be honest, you’re more than a little afraid you already know the answer), the sky to the west darkens as gray storm clouds roll in. Everywhere else remains clear and undisturbed, but the storm is moving in fast and you know there’s no time to get away.

The kid looks completely unafraid as he calls out again, “Fearow!” A loud screech reaches your ears, and you tense in anticipation.

Nothing could prepare you for the shock of seeing a large yellow bird more than twice the kid’s size swoop in from above and land beside him with barely a sound. Its wings are extended outward, feathers and edges spiky and charged with electricity that manifest in small arcs of lightning in the air around it. The bird’s eyes are dark and intelligent, but it isn’t looking at you. No, all its attention is focused on the small boy running towards it, arms outstretched with the happiest look on his face.

“Fearow!” He cries excitedly. You’re too stunned to do anything but stare as the kid practically dives into the bird, cheek pressed against its feathers. You notice how the giant bird looks less spiky and a lot fluffier, like it tried to make itself softer just for him. Judging by the way the kid is hugging it, that’s probably the case. You could swear the bird is cooing at him, and you watch slack-jawed as it encloses its wings around the kid who just sighs in contentment.

There are a million things you want to say, but the only thing that comes out is: “That’s not a Fearow.”

No shit, that’s not a Fearow. It’s a freaking Zapdos for crying out loud and all the pieces of the kids’ story suddenly make a lot more sense now.

Zapdos unfolds its wings and the kid just looks at you like you’re the one that’s mistaken. “Of course it’s a Fearow! It’s got the spiky Fearow feathers and everything,” he explains as if he’s used to dealing with this kind of incompetence. For a moment, you’re almost convinced that the kid’s right and that maybe it is just a Fearow.

Almost.

You shake your head, still hardly daring to believe that you’re not hallucinating right now. You decide to try one more time to tell him he’s got it wrong. Someone’s gotta break it to him eventually. He’s still so young, and you can already see how people will try and take advantage of him, or worse, try to hurt him to steal Zapdos. He’s petting said Pokemon with all the innocence of a small child, and you can tell by the adoration in his eyes that he isn’t seeing a legendary bird – just a Fearow that he loves more than life itself.

You clear your throat uncomfortably. “Kid, listen. I know you’re really convinced that it’s a Fearow, but you need to know something. See, your Pokemon, it’s not –”

Zapdos catches your eye and looks at you. Even without saying anything, you understand its meaning.

_Don’t tell him._

You raise an eyebrow. _Why?_

The legendary bird glances down at the kid. The protectiveness in its gaze surprises you, and there is no part of you that doubts the depth of its emotion. Zapdos loves this kid, just as much as the kid loves it. And it’s true that he’s still young and vulnerable. He might end up making some unintentional enemies down the line because of his powerful Pokemon. But you’re convinced that he’ll be okay by the determination in Zapdos’ eyes as it fixes you with its stare again.

_I will protect him._

“Okay,” you say aloud, holding your hands up in defeat. “I get it.”

Zapdos inclines its head ever so slightly, and you crack a smile. There’s an entire story there that you’re dying to know, and because the whole situation is so beyond ridiculous you can’t help but ask, “How’d you manage to catch, um, Fearow?”

The kid leans back against Zapdos as the bird carefully preens his hair. “It wasn’t that difficult. I just asked Fearow to be my friend!”

You blink once, twice. Then you laugh, thinking that you really shouldn’t be surprised at this point. “You asked,” you repeat, a wide smile on your face.

“Well, yeah,” he says a little defensively. “How else are you supposed to do it?”

You’re smiling way too much, but hell if you care at this point. Just goes to show how much there is left to learn, and how this kid who’s not even ten yet already knows way more than you.

“You know, kid, there’s a lot of us out there wondering what the secret to being the best Trainer is. Is it about having a lot of rare Pokemon? The best battle record? The most badges? You’ll hear a ton of people say that it’s one or all of those, that it takes years to climb the ranks in order to be considered an elite Trainer. It’s what I’ve been working towards, for the past thirty years since I started my journey. All this time I’ve been searching for the answer, but you’ve reminded me that it’s not about any of those things.”

Kneeling beside the boy, you say, “You’re right about one thing. Pokemon are our friends. I can tell your Fearow here really loves you. Take care of it, alright?”

He grins. “I will!”

You glance up at Zapdos. “Although I guess you’ll probably be the one taking care of him for the first few years, huh?”

The bird rolls its eyes, and seems to resign itself to its fate. Folding its wings inwards, Zapdos crouches down and the kid clambers up onto its back. You stare, feeling more than a little jealous that he gets to experience soaring through the skies atop a legendary bird whenever he wants. Zapdos looks smugly in your direction as if it knows what you’re thinking.

The wind starts to pick up, and you realize with a start that you don’t even know what this kid’s name is. He’s going to grow up to be someone great, you can tell already, and you want to remember his name when he’s a legend in ten years. “What’s your name, kid?”

He’s seated on Zapdos’ back, clutching the feathers around the great bird’s neck for support. With that carefree smile on his face, he says, “My name’s Spark! It was nice to meet you!”

“When you’re older, let’s have a battle, Spark,” you say.

“Okay!” He says. Then Zapdos is taking off into the sky, the kid squealing in delight as it flaps its wings to catch the wind.

Spark, huh? It was a good name, and definitely one befitting the kid who made Zapdos his friend.

**Author's Note:**

> I gave myself feels about Zapdos why.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
